Over-estimating your experience or under-estimating the terrain in a place like Big Bend can result in serious injury or death. Use the information and advice found here wisely. Climb/Hike/Camp/Drive at your own risk.

I might just take you up on that. I had a relative at Jamestown, and my direct ancestors first made their New World stake in Isle of Wight County, VA, on the Blackwater River. I've never been there, but I plan on heading that way in the next year or two. And even though my kids have cousins in D.C., only one of them has ever been there. We're due for a visit.

Let me know when it’s happening. I’ll be here.

And if you are going to Jamestown, you’ll need to eat at my favorite BBQ place in the world, Pierce’s Pitt Bar-B-Que in Williamsburg (http://www.pierces.com/menu.php)

Like most everyone here, I've checked in on the board several times a day looking forward to the next portion of this journey. You are the triple threat of adventure as you can plan it, live it and tell it - months, 16 days and 18 days, respectively. That combination is very rare. Even rarer is to possess each of those traits and remain humble.

Your trip was almost identical to the journey of your father's ancestors: a long journey over water between two countries followed by a journey on foot over rugged country, things didn't turn out as you'd hoped so you turned back before encountering two friendly faces that provided aid.

T just want to add my kudos to a job well done, and a thank you for writing it up in the way you did. I'm not the first to notice, but you have a real talent for writing that brings your audience into the adventure.

I wouldn't harp too much on not making it back to your car on foot. With the hypothermic conditions that you were in, it's much better to live to hike another day. Some day, some way, you will get another shot at this.

T just want to add my kudos to a job well done, and a thank you for writing it up in the way you did. I'm not the first to notice, but you have a real talent for writing that brings your audience into the adventure.

I wouldn't harp too much on not making it back to your car on foot. With the hypothermic conditions that you were in, it's much better to live to hike another day. Some day, some way, you will get another shot at this.

Thanks, Gary. You know, it wasn't really the rain, or the wind, or the cold, or the snow or hypothermia that ended my hike. It was the fall, and the damaged knee. Though I suppose you could say the fall was caused by the first five. But mostly I think the fall was just caused by carelessness/stupidity. By the time I was hiking toward my rendezvous with Mule Ears and Scott at my cache the next day, the weather was a non-issue. Temperatures had risen; the sky was a clear, brilliant blue. I'm not even sure I couldn't have finished my hike on that knee, if I'd tried. Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know. Mostly, I'd just reached a point where I minded that it hurt, and I didn't want to risk making it hurt more. My knee hurt, my shoulder hurt, my heart hurt.

I visited the doctor (and my dentist ) when I got back home. I did do actual damage to my knee: multiple bits of my knee architecture are inflamed, and it seems that I have exacerbated a small tear in a meniscus. So it's back to physical therapy for me, for now. And exercise soon. And a more specifically-targeted knee brace. But I'll be up and running again eventually. As you said, "live to hike another day."

Your trip was almost identical to the journey of your father's ancestors: a long journey over water between two countries followed by a journey on foot over rugged country, things didn't turn out as you'd hoped so you turned back before encountering two friendly faces that provided aid.

I was 'late to the party' and am just now finishing up the story of your amazing adventure. Your love and excitement for the journey is absolutely palpable. I'll echo the sentiment of pretty much everyone here and say you're way too hard on yourself. I know how you feel, but you have absolutely NOTHING to be ashamed of---Your exploits put so many hardy adventurers to shame---And I could only hope to be half as successful at your age.

I was once a good bit more active on BBC, but i've let 'life get in the way'. I've found i've been lurking more the past few months. I celebrated 20 years of my first visit to Big Bend just this last October, and while my plans to do a memorial trip haven't come to pass, they're definitely in the works. I try to visit every couple of years, but it's been over 10 since my last solo effort. I'd already been planning a trip in mid October 2018, but reading your exploits has strengthened my resolve to do something... More.

I'm also a lifelong outdoorsman, but it's been 20+ years since i've been backpacking. I'm in my 40's, but the sound of the ticking clock has been drumming louder in my eardrums with each passing year. It's true, there's no time like NOW, we may never pass this way again. While I'm not quite at the level you are (that pack raft down the river is utterly EPIC), I think it's time do do a solo backpack this time, while I still can. One day I hope to work up to make a trip of your magnitude, but I have to get my sea legs back, first. Quite frankly, I needed a swift kick in the pants, a goal to reach for... And I want to THANK YOU for helping to give me that kick. I hope to meet you one day to thank you in person.

As far as the kitten... The universe is a vast and mysterious place, full of amazing and unexpected occurrences. As far as her fate, I'm going to have to call, 'Pics or it didn't happen.' Life is a funny thing.... Like Dr. Malcolm in Jurassic Park says, "Life finds a way."... And so it is with the hardscrabble people of the Bend....

Be well in your travels.

And now, back to read your LAST year's trip report!!!

Logged

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents."-H.P. Lovecraft

T just want to add my kudos to a job well done, and a thank you for writing it up in the way you did. I'm not the first to notice, but you have a real talent for writing that brings your audience into the adventure.

I wouldn't harp too much on not making it back to your car on foot. With the hypothermic conditions that you were in, it's much better to live to hike another day. Some day, some way, you will get another shot at this.

Thanks, Gary. You know, it wasn't really the rain, or the wind, or the cold, or the snow or hypothermia that ended my hike. It was the fall, and the damaged knee. Though I suppose you could say the fall was caused by the first five. But mostly I think the fall was just caused by carelessness/stupidity. By the time I was hiking toward my rendezvous with Mule Ears and Scott at my cache the next day, the weather was a non-issue. Temperatures had risen; the sky was a clear, brilliant blue. I'm not even sure I couldn't have finished my hike on that knee, if I'd tried. Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know. Mostly, I'd just reached a point where I minded that it hurt, and I didn't want to risk making it hurt more. My knee hurt, my shoulder hurt, my heart hurt.

I visited the doctor (and my dentist ) when I got back home. I did do actual damage to my knee: multiple bits of my knee architecture are inflamed, and it seems that I have exacerbated a small tear in a meniscus. So it's back to physical therapy for me, for now. And exercise soon. And a more specifically-targeted knee brace. But I'll be up and running again eventually. As you said, "live to hike another day."

It's good to see that your knee (and your mouth) is recovering. That's the thing about epic journeys such as the ones you attempt - there's more opportunities to experience really interesting things, but there's also more opportunities for something to go wrong. However, you don't get to achieve epic things without trying to achieve epic things.

It's too bad you weren't a day or two ahead of schedule, or you might have run into me poking around the Ernst Basin. As you have written, it really is a special place, and not just because its an excellent example of a graben. It's one of those places which has to be earned, because you can't drive to it; you have to get out of your vehicle and make the physical effort and sacrifices to hike there.

It's too bad you weren't a day or two ahead of schedule, or you might have run into me poking around the Ernst Basin. As you have written, it really is a special place, and not just because its an excellent example of a graben. It's one of those places which has to be earned, because you can't drive to it; you have to get out of your vehicle and make the physical effort and sacrifices to hike there.

Jonathan, had we run into each other deep in middle of the lonely Ernst Basin, that would have been yet another of the flabbergasting (and wonderful) coincidences of my trip. Sorry we missed each other. Thanks for the kind words!

As you can probably tell by now, I write trip reports not just to record routes and gear and wilderness conditions, I write trip reports to help me understand myself, my experiences, and the world. To make sense of what often seems a flood of random, often conflicting events and emotions and echoes of other times and places and ideas that I experience while in the wilderness. I write from the notes in my journals. But I rarely know exactly what I’m going to say until I type the words. Sometimes events that seem unrelated at the time I experience them, later take on meaningful shape and pattern and relationship as I type. Sometimes they don’t. But, still, I give it my best shot.

I just spent the better part of yesterday reading your trip report. Immediately upon waking, I had to finish the story. And what a story it was! I have so much to comment on I honestly do not know where to start, or end!

I remember you giving me some advice as I decided to take my first steps into the park last year. I had no idea I was getting advice from someone of such caliber. I live ‘close’ to the park (Del Rio, Texas) and have some time off next month. I have been kicking around ideas of stuff to do and after reading your trip report, I have been motivated to return to Big Bend.

I am going to keep this short and simply say, “Thank you for taking the time to write out that wonderful trip report.”

-If you don’t try at anything, you can’t fail…it takes back bone to lead the life you want.” –Richard Yates.

I live ‘close’ to the park (Del Rio, Texas) and have some time off next month. I have been kicking around ideas of stuff to do and after reading your trip report, I have been motivated to return to Big Bend.

I am going to keep this short and simply say, “Thank you for taking the time to write out that wonderful trip report.”

-If you don’t try at anything, you can’t fail…it takes back bone to lead the life you want.” –Richard Yates.

Thanks, Watcher! There are plenty of people on this forum that know a lot more about Big Bend, and backpacking in Big Bend, than I do. That said, I am very happy that my trips and trip reports are inspiring in you a love for the Bend and a motivation to get out and explore it. That's the BEST compliment of all.

Chin up, HMoD. IMO it took brass balls to even plan a solo trip of this magnitude. And travelling the length of the park via the river sounds like an amazing journey.

Agree, yet he never mentions the pack raft or the pack he packed those in!

Here you go, Pacing the Cage. Everything I carried while backpacking. If I can find the time later, I'll try to add the weights of everything.

EQUIPMENT LIST FOR MY ATTEMPTED CROSS-PARK HIKE, 2017

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Here is a comprehensive list of my backpacking equipment and where I stowed everything while hiking. This does not include my packrafting equipment - either while on the river, or while carrying it on my back to my drop point near Mile Marker 13. The packrafting gear weighed anywhere from 10 to 13lbs. My backpacking load while on land ranged from a low of 32lbs to as much as 54lbs. My fundamental base weight was 17.25lbs. If you take away the pound-and-a-half solo-traveler penalty for increased first-aid and survival supplies, and the extra two-pound penalty for a heavy-ass bag that can carry nearly 60lbs to accomodate packrafting gear and 3 gallons of water through the Deadhorse, then my fundamental baseweight would be closer to 13.5lbs. I can live with that.